what you've been looking for has been here the whole time
by rumbarrelsandships
Summary: She respected his privacy, it wasn't her business to tell people they might not be as perfect as they think they are. Multi-chapter fic based off of Taylor Swift's You Belong With Me music video. Lucaya AU.


Hey, people! This is based on Taylor Swift's You Belong With Me music video and this is my first multi-chapter fic, which roughly should have about 6 chapters but I'm still working it out. Lines in italics are song lyrics. I hope you've all enjoyed my past fics and I have about a billion unfinished fics in my drafts so I'll (hopefully) bombard you with a couple one-shots for you guys to enjoy while I get the next chapter up. Thank you so much for your kind reviews and I hope you enjoy, as always.

* * *

Maya sat on the worn wicker stool in front of her blank canvas, with a puzzled expression on her face. She had no inspiration of what to paint and she had one last piece to put in her portfolio for her final art exam. The colours just didn't seem to work themselves onto the page. She was wearing a _still_ baggy top from her middle school graduation, decorated with jewels and the signatures of the people in her class, with her glasses resting on the edge of her nose, Music drifted softly in the background and she let out an exasperated groan, stretching her arms. She stifled a yawn and took a sip of lemonade that was on her desk, narrowing her eyes at the daunting piece of equipment.

She got up and flopped on her bed, closing her eyes and racking her brain for something to paint. The hum of the city in the distance calmed her but she couldn't help but feel that there was something right under her fingertips but she couldn't quite see it yet.

 _You're on the phone with your girlfriend she's upset, she's going off about something that you said._

A faint sound of shouting floated through her open window, and she craned her neck towards the sound. The sight she saw made her eyebrows furrow in concern and she sat upright, too quickly, and got whiplash. She rubbed her neck, her eyes tracing the movements of the boy pacing backwards and forwards, his face contorted in frustration and shouting into his phone. Lucas Friar. He always talked with his hands, only when he was passionate about something, though. She smiled softly to herself, He and Maya had grown up together, as they lived next to each other. After middle school, he had been scouted by the high school coaches and practically joined every sports program he could, so she drifted from him.

Everyone had heard about the true power couple, Lucas Friar and Riley Matthews, everyone thought they would get married and live happily ever after because they were just _that_ perfect. Maya couldn't help feel a little envious, as she had never been looked at like Lucas had looked at Riley by _anyone_ and there was the fact that Maya may have a slight infatuation with him. Lucas always smiled at her in the hallway and if he heard any trouble wth her, he would fix it. He was the golden boy. She had to think the pressure would get to him at some point, but it never seemed to. They were on opposite sides of the school, sports and arts, so she only ever saw him at the occasional game when the school band played in spirit and parties. Which was mostly spent arguing with Riley about something dumb. She respected his privacy, it wasn't her business to tell people they might not be as perfect as they think they are.

 _she doesn't get your humor like I do_

She grabbed an art pad and a black sharpie, scrawling quick letters onto the page. He had just ended the call, presumably to Riley and sunk back down onto his bed. She flipped the notepad around to face the window and gave a small smile. He looked up and gave a wide grin, he did the same, writing quickly as to not get her impatient. He had scribbled 'Tired of Drama' with a blue marker pen and turned it around to face her with a quirk of his eyebrow. She felt bad for him, because if anything changed, his reputation would be tarnished. She frowned and wrote ' _Sorry :('_ and gave him an expression that resembled the sad face. He just gave a shrug of his shoulders.

She didn't know what to say and just rolled her eyes to the ground, eventually landing back on him. He stared at her, and she stared right back. Her eyes widened the slightest amount and she looked back down at her notepad. She flipped over to a fresh page and started writing. She tilted her head to look up, and saw he was pulling the curtain back, and he quickly became out of sight.

Once the curtain was drawn, she gave a loud sigh, slumping her shoulders in defeat. Her head hung low, staring at the big, black letters on the paper. 'I Love You'. As if she had the courage to actually tell him how she felt.

 _she'll never know your story like I do._

Her head now swarmed with images of bright green eyes and dirty blonde hair and now she definitely couldn't finish her art piece. She puffed a stray clump of hair from her loose ponytail and got up from her bed. Her battered and now paint splattered boombox sat on her windowsill and she switched to a well-known radio station. She turned the volume dial up and a generic country song filled the room with a twang.

Maya stood in front of her tall mirror, only filling up about half of the view and started singing along to the catchy chorus.

 _She wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts_

Maya had always felt inadequate compared to Riley, or any other girl in their year for that matter. She always tried to make an effort but she ended up always feeling more comfortable wearing normal clothes rather than tight, constricting dresses or skirts. Guys never gave her the time of day.

 _She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers_

After they had graduated middle school, Riley had much preferred changing her interests to Lucas's schedule. She had joined Cheerleading, Prep Club, Debating and School Council, all to make sure she wouldn't lose Lucas. Even if it meant not seeing Maya. As the months passed, and the friendship groups changed, Maya hadn't spoken a word to Riley. Once when Topanga commented that she hadn't seen Maya in a while, Riley was forced to invite her over for dinner. Riley had redecorated the bay window, and her room now smelt like perfume and Lucas's aftershave. Maya's throat constricted and no words fell from her mouth. Riley went on a rant about how Maya had always been planning to outshine her and steal Lucas had always been insecure about how close they were, but strictly as friends for Riley. That night ended in fleeting tears and words sharp as knives being thrown at her by Riley as Maya ran out the front door, Cory's calls echoing in the background.

Maya shook her head to herself to make her stop thinking about it and wiped the single tear that had poured onto her cheek. She straightened her back and gave herself a wide grin, she knew exactly what she could do to get inspiration.

Many strange outfits and black eyeliner smudges later, Maya had successfully belted out the lyrics to the entirety of Taylor Swift's Fearless album except from one song, You Belong with Me. The verso started off slow, but the tempo accelerated to the chorus and suddenly Maya was dancing and jumping on the top of her bed. Unbeknownst to her, Lucas has been watching her since the song started, a smirk plastered on his face. Her fingers ran through her long golden hair and she let out a whoop as the instrumental part of the song kicked in, resulting in the people in the apartment above her pounding on the ceiling, yelling at her to keep it down. A blush crept up on her neck and Maya flopped down on her bed, panting but still mouthing the words. He smiled to himself and finally called it a night, leaving the window and the view of Maya behind.

As the last note ended, Maya once again sat down at her wicker stool and her fingers found the paintbrush, swiping colours onto the easel. She wasn't sure what she was painting yet, but her hands moved faster than her brain could keep up with.

Three hours later, with blue and green paint all up her arms, Maya stepped back and looked at her work. It was a blend of colours, an abstract piece but if you looked close enough, you could see the hint of the daring green eyes that belonged to only one.

Lucas Friar.

Damn him.


End file.
